


Propriety

by Terminallydepraved



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: BDSM, Blood, Cock Rings, Daddykink, Humiliation, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Scratching, Spanking, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, maid play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 03:18:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5274572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terminallydepraved/pseuds/Terminallydepraved
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Disobedience doesn't go over well within the Zoldyck household. Chrollo learns the hard way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Propriety

**Author's Note:**

> obligatory and shameless maid fic i wrote on a whim through asks. thanks to everyone who played, i know this was forever ago but i just now remembered it existed and got around to compiling it. enjoy you filthy sinners.

Chrollo tugged uselessly at the short skirt, fidgeting in his discomfort. Silva just kept staring at him, his steely eyes pinning him in place.

“You know maids aren’t supposed to be in here.”

“I’m sorry,” Chrollo tried, biting his lip. “I only wanted to do my best.”

Silva’s expression didn’t change and Chrollo held his breath, letting it out slowly when the man gestured for him to come closer. He patted his thighs with a massive hand and raised an eyebrow when Chrollo didn’t immediately sit on his lap.

The command in the expression was enough to fix that. Skirt clenched between his fingers, Chrollo eased himself onto the muscled thigh, a surprised noise sounding as strong hands pulled him up further, fixing themselves on his hips.

Lips brushed his ear and Chrollo shuddered.

“I think you need more discipline if you want to do your best for me.”

“But Sir-” Chrollo was cut off with a touch against his thigh. He flushed bright, looking down to watch as Silva trailed his fingers along the smooth cotton of his stockings. “Sir this is, this is inappropriate.”

The answering laugh was so deep Chrollo could feel it against his spine. “What’s inappropriate,” Silva began, the tips of his fingers working their way higher and higher, bringing the hem of the skirt with them. “Is a disobedient maid telling his master what he should and shouldn’t do.”

Chrollo’s hands rested on Silva’s forearms, fingers clenched in the sleeves of the silk shirt. “I-I’m sorry, Sir,” he stuttered, fidgeting even more when Silva reached his thighs.

Sharp teeth nipped the sensitive skin of his throat and Chrollo jolted. “If you were truly sorry, you wouldn’t have disobeyed in the first place. Now I have to punish you.” The hands dragged along Chrollo’s thighs and lifted his skirt up, showing off his legs and panties to Silva’s disconcerting gaze.

“Please, Sir,” he managed, trembling as Silva’s fingers came down to tease at the lace, “please.” He was achingly hard and mortified, his position giving him no measure of modesty. Though his own hands rested on Silva’s forearms, there was no control to be found, no way for him to move Silva.

In exchange for his pleas he found himself hushed, a dangerous mouth pressed against his throat to coax more marks into his skin. It was almost enough to distract him from the sensation of lace and silk sliding down his hips.

The panties came off with little issue. His eyes closed tightly, Chrollo bit his lip hard enough to taste blood. A strong hand stroked down his thigh, Silva’s ankle catching around Chrollo’s to spread his legs apart. There was no hiding anything now.

“What’s this?” Silva asked, tracing just the tips of his fingers along the length of Chrollo’s cock. “This is punishment and you’re enjoying it. What blatant disobedience.” The chastising was only jest, the laughter obvious in Silva’s deep tenor, but it nonetheless sent shivers down Chrollo’s spine.

A gasp fell past his lips when the hand took him fully and Chrollo threw back his head. He rested against Silva’s shoulder, the angle only opening up even more skin for Silva to mark.

It wasn’t long before Chrollo was arching into the touch, every pump of Silva’s hand causing him to shift and squirm. He could feel Silva’s desire against his lower back, could feel how every little jump he made sent the smallest jolts through Silva. The thought made him braver and he released his grip on the shirt sleeves to wind them behind Silva’s neck, bringing Silva flush against his back.

“Oh please, please, Sir,” he begged, bucking his hips. A large hand sneaked beneath his skirt, dragging the material upwards until it could reach his chest. The exposure allowed the chilly air of the study to reach his hot skin.

“I want you to do something for me,” Silva breathed against his ear, teeth nipping at the earring.

“ _Anything_ , please, Sir.”

“I want you to open yourself up, can you do that for me?”

The words didn’t immediately pierce the pleasure muddled haze dominating his thoughts. Chrollo could only nod his head, letting Silva reach up to unwind his hands from behind his neck.

When he found his own fingers pressed to his lips, he registered the command and the implications it held. Silva growled low in his throat when he didn’t open his mouth and the hand went to his throat, pressure hard but not quite choking.

“When I give you an order I expect you to comply,” he ground out, applying enough force to make it difficult to breathe. “Do you understand?”

“Y-yes, Sir.”

With little other choice, Chrollo took in his fingers. His cheeks burned as he wet them, his tongue coating each digit fully. The hand at his throat eased up and he could see out of the corner of his eye the hungry look on Silva’s face as he watched. Despite the embarrassment, Chrollo couldn’t help but make a show of it, twirling his tongue and moaning a little as his fingers fucked into his mouth.

“That’s enough.” Silva couldn’t hide the edge to his voice, the small note of desperation beginning to make itself known.

Chrollo tried to mask his smile with another moan, pulling his wet fingers past his lips to begin trailing down his body. Silva took him by the wrist when his pace proved too slow and it was in this way that Chrollo found himself guided to his entrance.

The first touch sent a shudder down his spine.

“Good boy, keep going,” Silva murmured in his ear, guiding his fingers lower, deeper. The first went in easily enough, a fact that did not escape Silva’s attention. “Do you touch yourself often, Chrollo? Open yourself up like this so you can fuck your hand?”

It was hard to concentrate on the questions but the hand still at his throat refused to let him stay silent. “Y-yes Sir,” he mewled, slipping another finger inside with only the slightest sign of discomfort.

“What a filthy maid.” He let go of Chrollo’s wrist to fondle his trembling thighs. “So desperate and hungry for this.”

The shame only made Chrollo work faster, a third finger easing inside with a muted cry. His entire body was shaking now and Silva’s exploratory touches only added to the sensations plaguing his body. He could feel his orgasm approaching and couldn’t bear to slow down his fevered pace. So close, getting closer with each thrust of his fingers against that spot inside—

Pressure slammed down on his throat the instant he felt himself teeter on the edge of completion, the choking weight dragging him back to the present. He struggled for breath and reached up to grab at the hand fixed tight around his neck but there was no moving Silva.

“We’re you about to come before I gave you permission?” The question was so quiet, so silky and light against his ear that Chrollo knew instinctively that he had made a mistake. The hand let up only slightly when he began to see black spots flood his vision, giving him enough slack to suck in a small breath. It was hardly enough to satisfy, just enough to make him ache for the oxygen only just out of reach.

Chrollo fought to make eye contact with Silva but only found stern disappointment in in the steel blue.

“‘m s’rry,” he wheezed past the hand, letting his body go slack. He pulled his fingers from his entrance with a breathless groan and rested against Silva’s chest, his thighs spread and struggle gone. There wasn’t much else he could think to do to apologize beyond complete submission.

The hand disappeared from his throat after another few seconds of punishing oxygen deprivation. “I’m going to have to punish you for your presumptuousness, Chrollo. I was going to be kind but then you went ahead and took liberties with my generosity.” His hands took in Chrollo’s open posture, his lax muscles.

It was a simple thing to maneuver him to lay across Silva’s lap, his thighs spread and ass on display.

Chrollo shook as he was re-positioned, every little brush of Silva’s clothing sending tingles of sensation through his body. It didn’t take a genius to know what was coming.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t be mad at me,” he sputtered, his words tripping over themselves in their haste to make it out before Silva’s hand on his ass turned from idle stroking to slapping. “I promise, I won’t do it agai—”

The first strike was loud. It fell at the sensitive place where his thigh met his ass, sending him crying out.

“Promises don’t fix what you’ve already done, Chrollo. Be good for me and you won’t have to go through this again.”

The next fell just as the first had; loudly, sharply, and painfully. Chrollo struggled to get away, to put some distance between himself and the massive hand that struck with such vigor, but Silva wasn’t having it. His free hand was wrapped firmly around Chrollo’s waist, locking him in place.

He tried to find the rhythm to the strikes, trying to predict the time each would fall to better prepare himself against the stinging pain. It was when he tensed, just a second before Silva brought his hand down that the spanking stopped.

Silva leaned back into his chair and stroked the reddened flesh, soothing the sting slightly. “Chrollo.” He didn’t continue until Chrollo looked up at him. “Are you trying to predict when I hit you?”

It was difficult to see through the tears in his eyes, but Chrollo didn’t need sight to tell him that Silva wasn’t pleased.

Chrollo bit his lip and lowered his eyes, swallowing the groan when Silva stroked his bruising flesh.

“I want you to count for me, Chrollo,” he ordered, his voice level like a razor. “If you do a good job, I may let this transgression slide.”

He could only nod his head, muscles already tensed for the inevitable slap to come.

Only it didn’t come. Seconds passed by with no indication that there was more. Chrollo shifted a little, only slightly, and risked a quick glance at Silva.

The moment he looked back was the moment it came, this time harder and sharper than before. He couldn’t hold back the loud cry or the tears that now fell down his cheeks. The message was clear: there would be no predicting what followed.

“…One.”

“Good,” Silva purred, rewarding him with a gentle stroke over the abused flesh. He let his fingers probe a little, dipping in enough to tease at his stretched hole. Chrollo arched into it and spread his legs best he could in his position, but only got another unexpected strike for his efforts.

The shift from pleasure to pain was jarring enough that it took him a moment to spit out the next number.

“Two.”

He couldn’t tell how long they carried on in that manner, each strike more jarring than the one before. The teasing, maddening treats in between were disarming enough to keep him from ever reading the rhythm. Their job was to distract, to work him into a fervor before punctuating his growing need with another sharp slap.

By the time he got to twenty, his breath was ragged, his voice cracked. The tears were coming in full force now and his cock was hard and wet where it was pressed between his stomach and Silva’s thigh.

He hung limply from Silva’s lap, his entire body aching and worn from the constant threat of more. The lace and cotton of his uniform were bunched up under his arms from the wriggling and spasming, leaving him exposed to the cold air where his skin wasn’t burning. Cool hands soothed the sting and he let out a strangled whimper.

Instead of another slap, Silva chuckled. “I’m impressed, Chrollo. You did so well. A little instruction now and then is good for you.” He pulled him upright as easily as if he were lifting a rag doll and positioned him so he was straddling his waist.

Tears staining his face, he leaned into the hand placed against his cheek. “Please, sir, daddy, please jus—” the words were a tidal wave until they crashed against Silva’s lips.

“Such a good boy. Stand up and bend over the desk. I think it’s time for a reward for all of your hard work.”

There was a measure of difficulty in following the order. Chrollo’s legs were unsteady, his muscles liquid and malleable to anything but his wishes. He only managed to bend over the desk with Silva’s help, his large hands guiding him into position as easily as molding clay.

When large, commanding fingers finally eased inside of him, Chrollo choked on his breath. They filled him far more than his own, stretching him wide and dipping inside deep enough to make him lift up onto his toes. Silva’s free hand dragged up his back, taking the uniform in hand to bunch it up. It exposed the planes of his back, his shoulders, to the sharp sting of Silva’s teeth.

A bite against his ribs sent Chrollo shuddering, fucking himself back onto the fingers with abandon. “Oh god, daddy, please fuck me please _please fuck me.”_

Silva allowed him to thrust back for a few moments, long enough to let him think he might actually get to come like this, but again he found himself denied right on the precipice of climax. The fingers pulled away, the teeth stayed sharp and dominating on the back of his neck, and Chrollo keened from the loss.

Hands held him in place as Silva lined himself up, pulling his cock further away each and every time Chrollo tried to thrust back onto him. “Shhhh,” he crooned, stroking his hand down Chrollo’s trembling flank like a rider soothing a skittish horse. “Patience. This may be a reward but you only get it under my terms.”

“Please,” Chrollo begged brokenly, his face buried in his arms on the desk. “I can’t take it anymore, please daddy, I need it, I’m sorry _I’m sorry.”_

Silva tensed at the pleading, took in the wrecked mess he had made of Chrollo, and hushed him again. “Soon, Chrollo,” he promised, reaching down between Chrollo’s legs to brush teasingly at the weeping cock.

Chrollo thrust wildly against him, desperate for any stimulation he could get while so thoroughly pinned in place. There was a moment of fumbling before a tight pressure locked around him. Shock and desperation poured through him as he lifted his head, looking down past the desk top to see Silva fastening the cock ring into place.

His voice was cracked and tear-stricken when he managed to find it. “Daddy please, please no, don’t do this to me dadd-”

The hand came back up to his throat, this time to ground instead of punish. When Chrollo heard the calming _shhhhh_ yet again in his ear, he lost control.

With a bout of energy he didn’t know he still possessed, Chrollo reached back, his fingers sinking in to the bare flesh of Silva’s thighs. He pulled hard and whined, trying to drag Silva forward and inside of him. Every part of him ached to remove the toy, to throw it as far away as he could, to pin Silva to the desk and ride him until he finally came, but he knew what would happen if he took that much liberty.

Silva seemed to finally, blessedly, recognize his desperation for what it was; a complete loss of control. He let himself be pulled in and guided himself inside with only a moment of teasing resistance. Chrollo threw back his head, digging his nails in hard enough to draw blood, and moaned.

The force of the thrusts grew with each passing moment, pressing Chrollo into the desk. His chest slid against the loose papers scattered across the surface, his rucked up dress catching on the various things around him. Pace hard and deep, the moans and mewls were punched out of his lungs each time Silva thrust inside.

Already on the verge of coming, the continuous denial was bordering on painful. Chrollo struggled and shifted and rolled his hips, clenching aimlessly in his desire for the pressure to abate. Silva growled at every movement he made, retaliating by grounding in harder and faster. His arms wrapped around Chrollo’s small waist to better raise him up, the new angle sending each thrust straight against his prostate.

Papers were crumbled as he thrashed, blood spotting them both as Chrollo dug his nails into the thick arms around his middle. Deep scratches rose on Silva’s skin and it still wasn’t enough to get him to take away the cock ring.

“Please, please, daddy please,” the words fell from Chrollo’s lips, unbidden with each thrust. He was in a daze, his vision blurry and unseeing, the only thing concrete being the horizon just out of reach. “Let me come, god, master, daddy, please I can’t take it-”

Silva’s growl was predatory and wild, his hips pistoning in with a broken rhythm as he came. He filled him with his release, fucking himself through his orgasm as Chrollo thrashed renewed. The desperation was visible in the stiffness of his shoulders, the wild whites of his eyes.

“No, no, no, no,” Chrollo cried like a prayer, thrusting back as best he could on Silva’s already softening cock. The wet, dirty sounds of his release filled the air alongside his voice and Chrollo shuddered, his tears dried but his sobs still loud.

He didn’t resist as Silva pulled out, his hips only chasing after him from instinctual reflex, or when he was turned over to face Silva. Laid out on the desk, he let Silva take in his wrecked form, the painful state of his arousal heavy against his thigh. Chrollo could only sob and shake, his hands heavy where they laid on either side of his head.

A hand cradled his cheek and Chrollo could only lean into it, gasping loudly when fingers teased along his cock.

“You’re so beautiful when you’re behaving,” Silva breathed, toying with the mechanism that held the cock ring fastened. “I could order you to stay like this for hours as I played with you and you would obey.”

Chrollo whined at the thought, mouthing at the hands brushing his lips as if it would convince Silva not to do it.

“Order you to fix your clothes, have you clean this entire floor from top to bottom before I gave you what you wanted.”

Chrollo could only turn his head away and sob, his fingers clenched into loose fists from his overwhelming want. He could imagine it, even as Silva said it. The feeling of the skirt over his hard cock, the press of the lace panties against it. He could feel the pain of it all brushing over him with every single movement he made as he cleaned as if he were living it in that moment. It sent another wave of desire through his body and he shuddered, writhing on the desk even as Silva released the cock ring.

It only took a single brush of Silva’s knuckles against his fevered cock to have him coming.

White painted his vision and he rode the wave that followed with abandon. On some level he could feel Silva above him, his body hovering just above his own as he covered his face with kisses, coating his lips in the tears still streaming down his face.

He came down slowly and lazily, unwilling to move lest he waste the state of his afterglow. It was Silva who coaxed him off of the desk, holding him as his legs threatened to buckle beneath him. Cobalt eyes devoured him even now, taking in the results of his work. The kiss he pressed to his lips was just as consuming, taking with it the last vestiges of Chrollo’s breath as well as the remaining strength in his limbs.

Silva gathered him up, careful to fix the rumpled skirt to cover him fully as he carried him from the study to the bedroom.

He’d bring up the matter of the mess Chrollo had made of the desk in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> when i started pasting all of this into a word doc i was horrified to see that it was like 8 pages long. what the fuck past megle, what the fuck. anyway, check me out on tumblr (terminallydepraved) and let me know how you liked this. until next time~


End file.
